What Happened When Blaine's Dad Found the Fake ID
by haleygirl
Summary: First fic! Written from an anonymous prompt at Glee Kink Meme in which Blaine's dad still spanks him and one day punishes him when Kurt is over at his house. Kurt tries to stop him by saying he influenced the misbehavior but Mr. Anderson is undeterred.
1. Chapter 1: Mon Nov 21st 2011 3:15PM

"Could you believe Mr. Schue today? For someone who runs a glee club, he has no taste in music whatsoever!"

Mr. Anderson looked up from his papers, startled, as Blaine and Kurt came bounding into the house. He had been working from home today and had lost track of time.

"Aw, it wasn't that bad, Kurt." Blaine teased, dropping his coat on the bench in the foyer. "You just gotta give some of that older music a chance... Hey Dad." Their jovial banter suddenly halted at the sight of the adult.

"Uh, hi Mr. Anderson." Kurt had never figured out how to not act awkward around Blaine's dad. Truth be told, Mr. Anderson felt pretty awkward most of the time himself.

"You two are home early."

"Yeah a little, Mr. Schuster wanted to work with Finn and Puck on their duet for Sectionals so he let the rest of us out. Kurt and I were going to order Chinese and study for our history test... I mean, uh, if that's okay."

Mr. Anderson nodded disinterestedly and went back to his work. Blaine pulled his wallet out of his bag and nudged his boyfriend into the kitchen to find the take out menus. After a long debate about the many possible order combinations, they settled on sweet and sour chicken with vegetable fried rice, counted out their cash and left it on the island near the phone to wait for it to arrive.

Mr. Anderson looked up again when he heard Blaine laughing at something Kurt said from the kitchen. He smiled at that- it was nice to hear. He knew he ought to make more of an effort to make Kurt feel welcome. It wasn't really that their relationship bothered him so much. He kind of enjoyed seeing the glow his son had whenever Kurt was around. As strict as Mr. Anderson was with Blaine, and as much as they didn't see eye to eye sometimes, he wanted him to be happy. He had never expected to have a gay son, but he didn't hate him for it. He knew it was a cruel world though, and from the moment Blaine came out he was plagued with concern for his safety. Secretly, he had hoped it was all a phase he would grow out of, and never more so than after the incident at the school dance that had led to enrolling Blaine at Dalton. The image of his son that night, so small as an eighth grader, sporting a black eye and a chipped tooth, was not something he was going to forget anytime soon. He had never felt like such a failure of a father in his whole life. He had so many regrets after that. He should have pushed Blaine to take self defense classes sooner. He shouldn't have let him go to that dance with another boy. He'd babied Blaine too much when he was younger, and it had left him vulnerable. There just was no rulebook in parenting and he kicked himself for all the things he knew he should have done differently, in hindsight. If Blaine was going to be gay, he was going to have be able to take care of himself. Mr. Anderson was proud that Blaine had taken up boxing, and that he had gotten up the nerve to return to public school. He had blossomed at Dalton and grown from a scared little boy into a pretty confident young man, and this time Blaine would be stronger and smarter about things. And his father would be watching more closely as well.

Thinking on this, Mr. Anderson got up and went to the kitchen with the mail.

"The library police are after you, kid," he said playfully, tossing the opened letter to Blaine, who gasped.

"What? Oh! Sh-" Blaine voice stuttered to a halt when he saw his dad raise an eyebrow. "I- I mean, oh. I forgot." Blaine looked down and turned flush, but his dad was swallowing a grin. If library fines were the biggest transgression his kid had, he'd take it. At least he tried. "I'll take care of it tomorrow Dad."

"Gonna get expensive if you don't." Mr. Anderson said, pointedly- but not unkindly.

Blaine nodded apologetically and put the letter in the pocket of his notebook. "It's in my locker, I promise I'll return it after school, Dad."

"How's the studying coming, Kurt?" Kurt jumped a bit, caught off guard. He wasn't sure if Mr. Anderson had ever even called him by his name before.

"Uh... fine sir. Should be ready for tomorrow."

"Well. That's great." Mr. Anderson forced a smile. But Kurt and Blaine were not responding particularly warmly to Mr. Anderson's attempt at conversation. They made busy with their studying, which he took as a hint that they wanted to be left alone. Blaine, for his part, was always worried that if his grades went down at all his dad wouldn't let him study with Kurt anymore and assumed the intrusion was about checking up on them. His dad had never caught them making out together or anything (thank God), but his older brother had never been allowed to "study" with his girlfriends when he was in high school, so he wasn't about to push his luck.

"Did you... need something Dad?" Blaine asked, attempting to look really taken with a Venn Diagram in his notebook.

"Me? Oh no, just- checkin in." Blaine nodded and went back to his notes. Mr. Anderson wondered if anyone knew how to talk to teenagers. Resigned, he reached across the island to grab an apple from the fruit bowl when something sticking out from Blaine's open wallet there caught his eye. He put the apple down and examined it closer.

"Okay," Blaine said, excitedly handing his textbook over to Kurt. "Ask me anything about the French Revolution. I got this."

"Blaine. Gabriel. Anderson." The smile on Blaine's face faded at his dad's tone. Kurt gave him a quizzical look and they both turned to see Mr. Anderson, eyes narrowed, holding up something in his hand. "What. Is. This."

Blaine went pale.

It was the fake ID. That said he was 38.

_Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

"Uh. I- I don't-" Blaine first impulse was to try to claim he had never seen it before, that he had no idea how it had gotten in his wallet. But a quick look to his dad's face told him he wasn't going to buy that. He had to come up with something plausible, fast. "I mean, it, was... for a joke, Dad."

God, Blaine was a terrible liar. Kurt felt bad to see him scrambling but he didn't know what to say either. What if Mr. Anderson told _his_ dad?

"A joke." It wasn't a question. Blaine gave a little shrug and a nod, not able to look his Dad in the eye. He was trying to quickly formulate a hilarious story about how his friends had all made them- in art class? something for Glee? Mr. Anderson wasn't going to let him get that far though. It was actually insulting- the fact that Blaine was trying to lie about this only raised Mr. Anderson's blood pressure more. Clenching his jaw, his voice got very low. "Blaine. Anderson. How about you try again and tell me the truth."

Blaine bit his lip and fidgeted at this accusation. _Just the way he did whenever he'd been caught in a lie as a little boy_, Mr. Anderson thought, eyeing the teenager running his hand nervously through his hair.

"Dad... it _is_ the tru...""

"Blaine, this is a fake ID. I am not playing games here." Kurt didn't know about Blaine, but he was shaking in his boots now, and Mr. Anderson wasn't even really raising his voice much. "I wasn't born yesterday, and I know what these are for. You been using this to get into bars?"

"I- bars?" Blaine did his best impression of shock. "N-no Dad, wh-why would- I mean, K-Kurt and I are too young to go to bars."

"Kurt and you?" Mr. Anderson thundered, turning his wrath to the other boy. "So, Kurt, do you have one of these in your wallet too? You think you two are old enough to be hanging out in bars, Kurt? Did you make this Kurt?" Certainly was clear the man knew his name now. Kurt started to stutter a "No sir," in reply, but Blaine had already panicked.

"No Dad, it wasn't Kurt. It was just me. It was for a bar, but Kurt didn't... I- a friend made it for me."

"A friend?" Mr. Anderson asked skeptically.

Blaine sighed. "This guy Sebastian. He's new at Dalton and I met him when I dropped off the _West Side Story_ tickets. I don't know where he gets them, but..."

"Sir." Kurt interrupted, summoning his courage. "This- this is my fault. Sebastian invited us to go to a bar and Blaine told him no, but- th-then I... I said we should go see what it was like. It was just that one time and we're never going back."

Blaine stiffly shook his head to shut Kurt up and Mr. Anderson looked between them, considering. "That true, son?"

Unable to come up with a better option, Blaine conceded. "...Yes sir."

"So, it was 'just once,' but you're still holding onto the fake ID for what, Blaine, a scrapbook?"

"N-no Dad, I just- I forgot it was there..."

"You forgot. There's no way you were just holding onto it for the next opportunity? So you could get into a concert or something?"

Blaine opened his mouth and then immediately closed it, deciding maybe it was better if he shut up right about now.

_At least now we're starting to approach the truth of things_, Mr. Anderson thought. He stepped in front of the island, taking a deep breath in an attempt to control his temper.

"Let's say, I take your word for it. So... 'just once' you two got into a bar illegally because you just had to see what it was like. Now I'm going to ask you a question and I expect the truth the first time now. You were drinking. You had to get home eventually. Were you driving drunk that night?"

"No!" Kurt and Blaine both blurted out, together.

"Dad, honest. K-Kurt didn't even drink at _all_. I- just... my friend Sebastian bought me a beer so..." Blaine immediately wondered why he'd broken his resolution to keep his mouth shut.

"Yeah, this guy Sebastian? He's not your friend." Mr. Anderson spat.

_You have no idea_, thought Kurt.

Blaine nodded, ashamedly looking down at his hands and muttering a "Yes sir." It was overwhelming to think of just. how. much. hot. water. he was in right now. He couldn't believe he'd been such an idiot and left that ID out where his dad might find it.

"...Uh, m-m-aybe I should go?" Kurt felt guilty about abandoning Blaine right now, but this was getting really awkward.

"No Kurt." Mr. Anderson said. He spoke slowly and carefully. "I think it's important that you know what the expectations are in this house. What you do is between you and your parents, but Blaine is well aware of what is and is not allowed around here. And one of the things that is not allowed is lying. Blaine lied when you two went to this bar and told his mother and me that you were going out somewhere else. Am I right, Blaine?"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "I said we were going to watch a movie at his house," he said quietly.

Mr. Anderson nodded sternly and turned back to Kurt. "Blaine lied to get into the bar with this." Mr. Anderson tossed the ID onto the island. "And now, he has lied several times today to try to cover up what he did. I don't know how your parents have raised you, Kurt, but Blaine knows full well what the consequences for lying are here."

Kurt stole a glance at Blaine, who, if it was possible, was looking even whiter than before.

Mr. Anderson took a step towards them and took hold of Blaine's arm firmly. "Seems to me you've more than earned a trip over my knee today, young man."


	3. Chapter 3

Suddenly the doorbell rang out, startling all of them.

"...It's the food." Blaine muttered, sheepishly.

Mr. Anderson held his ground a second, but then released Blaine's arm and stood back, gesturing to his son to deal with it. Blaine, red-faced, rushed over to the cash and ran off to the door, grabbing the bag and telling the delivery boy to keep the change.

Kurt, in shock, sat and wondered if Mr. Anderson had been serious. Over his knee? Was he planning on...? Did Blaine still get spanked?

The answer came soon enough, because the moment the bag hit the island Mr. Anderson had Blaine by the ear, dragging him over to the nearest chair. Kurt found himself leaping to his feet at this, helpless and oddly fascinated.

"I- Dad, n-no Dad, please..." Blaine sputtered helplessly, "I'm sorry, really I am, but just- can't this wait t-till-"

"No Blaine." Mr. Anderson interrupted sharply, nose to nose with his anxious son. "You knew the rules, and you decided to do what you wanted to do anyway. You do not lie to me. You're getting _exactly_ what you get _any_ time you choose to behave this way."

"I know, I- I know- sir, I just-" Blaine struggled with trying not to sound like he was talking back. "Not... _here_, please? Not while Kurt..."

"Mr. Anderson-" Kurt lifted his hands up for him to stop and then thought better of it. "I... sir. Really. I-it was all my idea. I was the one who said we should go to the bar. Blaine never would have-"

"Kurt, I appreciate you taking responsibility for your actions." Mr. Anderson sat down, working on unbuttoning his mortified son's jeans. "And you are free to share them with your parents for them to deal with as they see fit."

"Dad, please..." Blaine whined, looking up to the ceiling, desperate and embarrassed as he felt his jeans shoved down to his knees.

"I believe in old-fashioned discipline," Mr. Anderson cooly explained to Kurt. "And I believe it should be administered immediately after an offense," he said, pulling his son roughly over his knees. "I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable Kurt, and I am sorry if this embarrasses you Blaine," he added, pulling Blaine's gray boxer briefs down in one motion as Kurt gasped, "but maybe both of you could stand a little discomfort." And with that he lifted his hand and began giving Blaine a spanking.

Blaine yelped a little in surprise at the first swat to his bare bottom, but then gritted his teeth, steeling himself not to make too much noise. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and took it, it would be over quicker? Internally, though, he was raging. This wasn't fair, being subjected to this childish punishment in front of his boyfriend. He hated his dad right then. He hated feeling small and overpowered and chastised, and having Kurt see him like this. His dad wasn't holding back though and before long his focus was less on the injustice and humiliation of it all and more on the pain building on his backside. Each sharp slap stung and compounded on the last, leaving a warm and biting sensation across his rear. It was getting harder to just take it.

Kurt watched, mortified- and then felt guilty for watching but couldn't look away. He winced as he saw and heard the spanking increase in speed. Blaine began squirming uncomfortably over his dad's lap at that, moaning quietly in pain. Mr. Anderson tightened his grip around Blaine and began to speak.

"I am **SLAP** very **SLAP** disappointed in you **SLAP** young **SLAP** man. **SLAP**."

Tears bubbled into Blaine's eyes as he squinted them shut, that word- _disappointed_- echoing in his ears.

"Don't you **SLAP** ever **SLAP** pull a stunt **SLAP** like this **SLAP** again. **SLAP** **SLAP**."

Blaine's voice cracked as he spoke. "Oww-ahh! Yes sss-s-sir." His torso arched up sharply as a particularly stinging swat hit just above his right thigh. "OW! I'm s-ssorrry sir! I'm sorry! Dad- I'm sorry!" It wasn't even the worst he had ever gotten, but the combination of embarrassment knowing Kurt was in the room and the knowledge of how he had disappointed his father had become too much to bear. The tears started streaming from his face and his breath stuttered, trying to pull those tears back in.

At this, Mr. Anderson paused. "Next time you lie to me you're going to get a lot more than my hand. You understand me?"

Blaine tried to reply but a sob caught in his throat and he couldn't- so instead he just nodded miserably over his father's lap.

Satisfied, Mr. Anderson smacked his son's pinkening bottom twice more, hard, to which Blaine replied with helpless whimpers. A quiet minute went by, with only Blaine's trying-not-to-sob sniffling filling the air. Kurt watched, fascinated at how Mr. Anderson's large hand went from punishing to comforting, rubbing his son's back while he collected himself. Kurt swallowed and sat back down in his chair, breathing for the first time in awhile. Finally, Mr. Anderson reached down to pull his son's underwear back up over his bottom and then helped him hobble up.

Blaine pulled away a bit, turning his back to both of them while he pulled up his jeans and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He couldn't face them, and Kurt didn't blame him. Out of something like pity, Mr. Anderson quietly said, "Son, why don't you go wash up and then bring me your phone from your coat." Blaine nodded without looking back at him and then quietly disappeared into the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

There was an uncomfortable quiet as Kurt sat there, alone with Mr. Anderson, not knowing what to say or do. Blaine's dad finally stood and went back to the island to get that apple. He turned back to Kurt thoughtfully as he took a bite. So much for bonding with his son's boyfriend. He sighed. "I suppose you think I'm a monster now, huh?"

Kurt _really_ didn't know what to say to that, and shrugged noncommittally.

Mr. Anderson took a careful step back towards Kurt and then sat down at the chair by him. "Look." he said, earnestly. "I know my kid. He's a good kid. From what I can tell, you're a good kid." Kurt blinked at this, feeling oddly pleased. "Kids need boundaries. Blaine behaves well because I've always set limits for him. I didn't tolerate lying from Blaine when he was six years old and I'm not going to start now. And look, I know that you two are just... curious about some things- I do actually remember what it was like to be your age. But fake IDs are illegal and there are good reasons that minors aren't allowed in bars. It's incredibly dangerous." Mr. Anderson shuddered to think of all the ways this little experiment of theirs could have gone south. "This was absolutely unacceptable. Blaine knew he had a good spanking coming for it, but now it's over. He's going to lose his phone and privileges for the weekend, sleep on his stomach tonight, and remember to mind in the future. And if you want to continue... seeing... my son, there's going to be no more sneaking out to places you know damn well neither of your parents would approve of."

Kurt bit his lip. "Yes sir."

"Good then. Because you... uh, seem to... make him happy." Mr. Anderson suddenly looked away, biting into his apple. Kurt's mouth dropped at this sudden- compliment?- and didn't know how to respond for a second. He felt his face get warm and muttered a thank you, fingering the pages of his textbook as he did.

Blaine's footsteps approached slowly, and Kurt tried not to stare as he wordlessly put his phone on the table in front of his dad. His dad took it into his hand and addressed his son.

"This is mine till Monday. You two can study together tonight but you're grounded this weekend. No visitors, no going out."

Blaine swallowed and nodded to the floor. It was expected.

Mr. Anderson stood and gently lifted his son's chin to make him look at him. "Hey. You can hate me. But I care about you, okay?" Blaine looked at him sheepishly and nodded. He leaned in a bit towards his dad, who put his hand gently on his back for a second. He didn't really hate his Dad. He just hated being punished. Blaine closed his eyes at the familiar touch of his dad's hand rubbing against his back. Too soon they both stopped short and pulled away, awkward. But the brief moment of relief -of affection- between them was not lost on Kurt. It was something he had not been sure those two were capable of.

Mr. Anderson picked up the ID from the island and then stopped. He turned to Kurt. "You got _your_ wallet on you?" he asked, pointedly. Kurt, cowed, reached into his pocket and pulled it out, then handed over that stupid Hawaii driver's license. Mr. Anderson examined it, barely containing his amusement. "Someone let you into a bar with this? It doesn't even look like you."

Kurt and Blaine exchanged glances but said nothing. Mr. Anderson grabbed some scissors from the junk drawer and cut both cards up, tossing the remnants into the trash. "I've got a conference call at 4:30." he said, glancing at his watch. "I'll be in the den, but keep it down. And clean up after yourselves or your mother'll throw a fit about it." And with that, he headed out of the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine waited until he heard the door to his dad's den click shut and then, anxious for something to do- _anything_- quietly went to the cabinet and pulled out some plates. Kurt took the cue and got up to open the chinese food cartons. They were standing across from each other at the island when Kurt reached over and placed his hand over Blaine's.

Blaine mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Kurt shook his head and whispered, "No... it's okay. I- I feel bad, I never thought it would get you... in trouble."

Blaine looked down at their hands and ran his thumb up and down Kurt's fingers. Kurt swallowed, then tilted his head, trying to capture Blaine's eyes again but failing. "Are.. are you okay?"

Blaine shrugged, still looking away. "Yeah. It's just... embarrassing... is all," he murmured.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah."

He pressed his fingers against Blaine's thumb and then reached over for one of the plates, filling it with vegetable fried rice. Blaine opened the carton of chicken and scooped out some onto both plates. Kurt carried the utensils, napkins, and the sweet and sour sauce over to the table and then Blaine followed with both plates. As he set them down, his arm brushed against Kurt's and they stood there for a second, both just feeling warm skin touch warm skin. Kurt looked over to Blaine until his gaze slowly came over to his. Kurt reached his hand up and touched his face, eliciting a little sigh of relief from Blaine, who smiled a small smile. Kurt leaned in and gently touched his lips to Blaine's with a slow kiss. Blaine breathed it in, giving his side a small squeeze as he did. As they parted, they looked at each other's eyes, and all the tension had melted.

"So." Kurt said. "You think you've got the French Revolution down, huh?"

Blaine let out a little chuckle as he- somewhat gingerly- sat down and speared a piece of chicken with his fork. "It's true!"

"Oh I have a feeling I'll be able to stump you..." Kurt said teasingly, cracking open the textbook.


End file.
